Newbie
by FriendLey
Summary: It's Elizabeth's first time teaching after resigning from the CIA. She is determined to do a good job and, at the same time, finish her doctorate. Now, if only a certain someone would stop interrupting her classes. One-shot told from a student's point of view.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Madam Secretary or any of its characters used in this story. What is written here is for entertainment purposes only. No infringement is intended and this story is not for profit.**

"Hey!"

I looked up from my tablet to find Alisha waving enthusiastically at me. Her hair had gotten longer over the summer and it was mirroring the movements of her hand.

"Hi! I missed you!" I gave her a hug. "Nice hair!"

She flipped it. "Thanks. I miss you too! Enlistment was a bitch, huh? I was in the Second Batch for sign ups. Who'd you get for PolSci?"

"I have McCord," I said sadly. Professor Elizabeth McCord was a new addition to the Political Science department in UVA. She was a newbie. And like most newbies, her class was the last one to fill up; nobody wanted it.

Alisha's eyes widened. "OMG! Same! Please tell me you got the 5 PM class today."

I nodded, grinning.

"Yes! At least I know somebody in there. Do you have any idea if McCord's any good?" she asked, genuinely worried about our Political Science class if the professor was awful.

The bad thing about being part of the second batch to enlist in classes was that all the good ones were gone. And nobody wanted the class with the new professor because that could be risking one whole term with someone who could possibly be strict, terrorizing, or a bore.

I shrugged. "No reviews yet on the website. And none of my other friends have her so I don't know how she was in her classes this morning. But we'll find out soon enough." I checked my watch. Just 10 minutes to five. "I just hope she's fun."

"And teaches well."

"But mostly fun."

Alisha and I made our way out the cafeteria and to the assigned classroom. Nobody was there yet seeing as we were ten minutes early. But one by one, students began to enter, all of them wearing the same nervous looks.

By five, a blond woman with a kind face walked in. She didn't look mean or scary; that was a good sign, to be sure. She smiled at the class and then set her things on the table with a soft thump. She swept her eyes over the room and then said, "Let me guess. All of you were Second Batch and you had no choice but to enlist in my class. I'm right, aren't I?"

I let out a small laugh but didn't say any more.

"I won't hold it against you. I understand. Completely." She rounded her desk and leaned her lower back against it. "I was a student once. I had expectations and standards just like you. I promise that this class will be relatively painless and not headache-inducing. But before I fulfill that promise, I unfortunately have to be a bit boring first and discuss the syllabus." She handed out sheets of paper containing the course outline.

I accepted my copy and began to read with her.

"This class is entitled Politics and Governance," the professor began and then on and on it went, down to the course requirements, grading system, and classroom rules. When we got to the number of absences allowed, the professor said, "Here's where you guys are gonna love me. I'm not going to check attendance for this entire week seeing as it's the first week of classes."

Alisha and I exchanged a look. Professor McCord basically just told us we can cut her subject the entire week!

"Now, why would I do that?" asked the professor, her lips curling to form a smile. "Because as we start lessons in the next meeting, you may realize that I suck or you don't like me and my rules. Well, you are free to withdraw from the course as per your student rights. On the other hand, you might enjoy my class and tell your friends how cool I am and now _they_ want to get in this class. Do you see where I'm going here? This list," she waved a sheaf of paper that I knew contained our names, "is not final. And I don't want to check attendance when some of you may be leaving or others may be joining us soon."

She put down her copy of the syllabus and the class list. "Do you have any questions?" The professor waited for someone to speak up but when none came, she said, "Okay. I know all of you are dying to know a bit of my background so that you can judge if I'm worthy to teach you." She clasped her hands together and I wondered at how many times she had to say this speech today. "So, here are the facts. My name is Elizabeth McCord. I have an undergrad in Political Science and a Masters in Politics and International Relations. If you didn't love me a minute ago, you're definitely gonna love me now because... I originally wanted to require term papers—"

All of us groaned in unison.

"Hold on, hold on! I said, I _wanted_ to but seeing as how I'm going to be busy working on my doctorate this semester, I have decided to drop the papers—"

"Whoo!" someone cheered.

The professor laughed, "—and that's why you only have your midterms and finals. The caveat is that it'll be very hard to get an A or even pull up your grades with only two requirements."

The same person who cheered let out a moan of despair.

"And now you hate me," teased the professor. "But hey, while you guys try to wrangle up at least a passing grade, _I'm_ going to be busy writing papers and defending them. So, you and I have a lot to look forward to. Anyway, on with my life story. After college, I was recruited to join the CIA and I worked as an analyst for twenty years before I resigned to go into teaching."

There were several _oohs_ at the mention that we had a spy for a teacher. The professor chuckled at that. "Before you get ahead of yourself, no, I have never killed someone and no, I've never had the same gadgets James Bond has. I was an analyst, not a field agent. My work involved studying how governments were run all over the world. I witnessed empires and regimes fall daily only to rise again within days or months. In this class, I will be using my experiences to give depth to our lessons in the hopes that they will impart in you the same principles and values they imparted to me. Um, what else? I can speak Farsi, Arabic, French, German…."

We all left the classroom an hour later feeling optimistic. Professor McCord was definitely interesting for a newbie and the fact that she was a spy made things all the more fascinating.

"D'you know how hard it will be lying to her face?" wondered Alisha. "She probably has lie-detecting skills. Do you think it's illegal to use those skills on her students?"

I laughed. "Bet you don't feel bad about being in Second Batch now, huh?"

"Are you kidding me? She's awesome! And good looking!"

"Please don't tell me you have a crush on our professor," I teased her. Alisha had a habit of crushing on her professors. She claimed it made going to school motivating.

"Just admiring the view, Tammy."

The succeeding weeks of classes made it clear that Professor McCord was an easygoing, understanding teacher. Her lectures were fun, especially when it contained anecdotes of her family or of her time in the CIA—names and facts were replaced with fictional ones, of course. But she was also a no-nonsense woman; she didn't tolerate disrespect or foolishness in her class.

Most importantly, she made topics easy to comprehend with citing examples from personal experience. For an unknown teacher, she was on her way to becoming sought after. Alisha and I were very lucky to be her students.

It was a month into the semester when things took quite an amusing turn. _He_ came to visit and _he_ was a middle aged, rugged, handsome man. He sat at the far end of the room; we wouldn't have noticed he was present at all if he didn't interrupt the professor.

She was halfway through explaining a political theory when she stopped abruptly and narrowed her eyes in a bemused way at someone in the back. "Yes?" she asked.

All heads turned around to where a man, who didn't look like he belonged in a room full of young adults, rose to his feet.

"Who's that?" Alisha whispered to me.

I shrugged. We've never had an outsider sit or listen-in to the class before.

The man had a knowing grin on his face before he fired a question at Professor McCord. Heads whipped back to look at the professor again, waiting for her answer. Before she could reply, however, the bell rang and she smiled apologetically.

"Saved by the bell," said the man. "Would you be free to discussing this more with me outside office hours perhaps?"

My jaw dropped and so did everyone else's. The mystery guy just asked the professor out! In class!

I studied how the professor reacted to the question. Her lips thinned tightly.

"I'm sorry but you're gonna have to see me during office hours if you still want my two cents on the matter." Then, she addressed the rest of us. "As for all of you, continue with the assigned reading. We'll pick up where we left off on Thursday."

That was our cue to leave but nobody seemed to want to. We all lingered, gathering our things and filing out of the room as slowly as we could, hoping to catch some more of the exchange.

Once outside, everybody was buzzing.

"Who was that?" asked someone

"That's Dr. Henry McCord. He's from the Theology Department," said another.

"McCord? You don't think they're married, do you?"

"Doubt it. They didn't act like they knew each other. Besides, McCord's a common family name. I was under a McCord in Biology last year."

"Oh, shit! What if he's from the CIA? And he's come to kill her for something she's done!"

"Weren't you listening? Didn't I just say he's from the Theo Department?"

"You know, McCord _is_ a common name," I told Alisha as we broke away from the group.

"Doesn't matter!" she gushed. "He's cute and she's cute and I'm shipping them."

I groaned. "You ship everybody!"

"What do you say to the name McCuties?"

I laughed at the couple name. Alisha was always the romantic between the two of us.

We all kept an eye on the back door during class two days later. But the man didn't visit again. Either Henry McCord visited the professor in one of her earlier classes or he wasn't going to come at all.

The theory about him being CIA was starting to look pretty convincing too.

Professor McCord herself seemed to glance up at the door every so often, whether in fear for her life or curiosity, it wasn't clear. Then again, she might be looking at the wall clock for all I knew.

"Democracy today is quite different from democracy as it was practiced in ancient Greece," lectured the professor. "Here are a few examples."

The next slide of her powerpoint presentation came into view and then giggles erupted in the room.

Professor McCord's face was a deep shade of red as she lamely tried to come up with a reason for why Dr. Henry McCord's face was grinning at us all from the screen. He was holding up a cardboard that said, "I won't stop until you go out with me."

The image definitely settled the issue on whether the guy was a CIA agent or not.

The professor disconnected her laptop from the projector and calmly fixed her lecture slides. While she did so, chatter broke out.

"Cutie pies" squealed Alisha. "If they aren't married, they're going to be at the end of the semester."

"They have the same last name," I reminded her. "It's gonna be weird being Mrs. Elizabeth McCord McCord."

Alisha waved it off. "Details, details."

"Alright. Settle down," cried the professor amidst the noise. "I guess we can learn a thing or two from the man in my powerpoint: never leave your laptops unattended."

We laughed and she got right back into the lecture almost as if nothing happened.

The following meeting, I learned that there was now a running bet going on in the class as to whether or not He-McCord and She-McCord were secretly married to each other like Mr. & Mrs. Smith. It was split between the girls in the class who wished they were and the boys in the class who wished they weren't.

"You only want her to be single because you have a crush on her," Beth pointed out.

"So what if I do?" countered Aaron.

"His books say he's married and has three kids. And we know from her stories that she's married with kids. What are the odds?"

"And he teaches ethics. There's no way he'd be having an affair with the prof if they're not married."

"Maybe they're reliving their courtship."

"That is sooo romantic!"

But speculate all we want, there was still no proof of the love life we students suddenly became so hooked on like it was the weekly episode of some rom-com.

We almost lost all hope of ever finding out until a week into the second month, the rear door of the classroom opened again.

A boy of about four or five walked into the room, his small legs carrying him closer and closer to the front of the class, determined to reach the professor. He was dressed up as cupid, complete with a toy bow and arrow.

"Oh my gosh. He's adorable!" cried Alisha. Almost everybody thought so too, some letting out a chorus of _aaaws_ while others took pictures.

"What the—Jason—" sputtered the professor. She rounded the table and rushed to meet the child halfway up the center aisle that separated the two sides of the class. She crouched down to his level, examining his get-up. "What did daddy do to you?"

"I had to get your attention somehow," answered Henry McCord, walking towards them. "And he was game to playing dress up."

We all held our breaths as we waited for the professor to reply. Beside me Alisha was smiling widely. I can feel her vibrating in excitement.

"So you dressed up our son as cupid?" I was glued to the scene now, just like Alisha. This was the first time the professor has ever acknowledged an existing relationship with Henry McCord.

"Not cupid. Daddy says I'm a cherub!" piped the boy.

Henry smirked but the professor glared at him. He dropped his grin. "You have to admit he looks cute."

"It doesn't matter. You have got to stop," the professor insisted. "How do you expect me to do my job if you edit my powerpoints and disrupt my classes?"

"Come on, babe." Henry glanced around him and lowered his voice. It was futile, though, seeing as we all just edged a little closer to hear what was being said. "We haven't been on a date ever since you started teaching. And you need a break from your Ph.D. The kids will be fine with a sitter and your workload isn't going to implode if you take a night out."

The pre-schooler took the time to nod his head vigorously, as if he understood a word of what was being said, and say, "You and dad need some together-time."

Alisha giggled.

The professor thought about it for a moment, her brows knitting together.

And then a girl in the front row said, "Say yes, Professor!"

"Even teachers have to let loose a little," added another. And soon all of us were trying to convince the professor to give in.

"Alright, alright!" cried the professor, grinning from ear to ear. She playfully narrowed her eyes at Henry. "But if I fall behind on my paperwork, Henry McCord, I'm blaming you."

Henry looked triumphant and said, "I'll see you after this class, Mrs. McCord."

"I told you they were married!" said Alisha to me a little bit too loudly with a whack of her hand to my arm. Her eyes widened at being heard and she blushed scarlet.

"Thank you for that, Alisha," said the professor. She turned to her husband to give him a light kiss on the cheek. Then, she ruffled her son's hair. "Go. And take our adorable little cherub with you. I'll see you later."

Henry smirked. "I told you he was cute." He waved goodbye to his wife and their son mirrored him.

"Now, where was I?" Walking back behind her desk, Professor McCord resumed her lecture.

Over the course of the semester, Henry McCord didn't disrupt any of the professor's classes again or edited her powerpoints much to our disappointment. Alisha was rather hoping for a follow-up to the last incident.

But if it was any consolation to my friend, we saw them more frequently having lunch dates on campus which meant that the McCuties have finally managed to find a time of the day in which they can "together-time." Some of the guys didn't like that very much, though.

Rumor has it too that Professor McCord has taken it upon herself to interrupt her husband's lessons as payback for all the times he disturbed hers. And I bet being former CIA meant she has the skills to get away with more than what Henry McCord did.

Yep. For a newbie, Elizabeth McCord isn't all that bad.

 **A/N #2: Tell me what you think!**

 **A/N #3: In the flashback episode in the season 1 finale, Henry told Elizabeth that if she left for Baghdad, Jason might not even remember her. It makes me think that Jace was really young at that time, maybe toddler years, and so when she resigned for the CIA, I'm guessing he's about 4 or 5.**


End file.
